


plucking a flower from the grass

by h0neybeebear



Category: Gentleman Jack (TV)
Genre: Emotional Sex, Episode Tag, F/F, Falling In Love, First Time Bottoming, Insecurity, Lesbian Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-09 21:43:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18925558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h0neybeebear/pseuds/h0neybeebear
Summary: She'd long since grown used to the fact she was much more comfortable dressed, preferably buttoned up to her chin in her vests and waistcoats and cravats; that she was much more confident giving rather than receiving. Undressing herself completely and allowing another person to touch her inside seemed much more than what she needed to accomplish her pleasure, and she wasn't sure why Ann was so concerned with it.(Set after Anne's proposal of taking the sacraments in ep5, Anne attempts to give Ann more confidence in what she wants in the bedroom, but instead ends up facing her own insecurities and love for a woman she'd begun to court only for money.)





	plucking a flower from the grass

The clock had chimed past 10 in Crow's Nest, and they'd agreed to turn in sometime ago, but sleep had yet to come. 

_ One more time _ . Anne had promised herself a dozen times or more.  _ Let me kiss her just one more time… Then sleep… _

It was a false hope, for her heart was still racing shallowly in her chest, and rest was far from her mind. Despite the business with Mr. Ainsworth, she was looking towards the future, and Ann had agreed with that shimmery look in her wide, grey-blue eyes, to take the sacraments with her. It was almost more than Anne had hoped for though it had been her intentions from the start; and the thought of sending off for the ring kept her from dreams. What use and what little pleasure were dreams when the object of her desire was before her?

Her mouth broke from Ann's, and she heard the other woman draw a quick, shaky breath as she often did when they were alone with little more than their nightclothes between them. She still often lacked the confidence to be so forward as to detail exactly what it was that she wanted, and Anne whimsically thought that it was something that needed work. She frequently counseled Ann to have more faith and confidence in herself, but she'd been so fragile as of late, what with the Reverend coming round. She simply needed to be shown that she had little to fear from her own decisions and desires.

“You know, Ann…” Anne murmured, tracing her fingers along Ann's arm. “If you're to be my wife you must learn to tell me exactly what is you're feeling.”

“I-...” Ann began, and she knew immediately that it was an apology before  _ sorry _ even slipped from her lips.

“Sh, sh…” Anne assured her as her palm shifted over her blushing cheek. “Nothing to be sorry for, darling, I only want to please you… exactly as you want to be pleased.”

Ann's lids fluttered, a nervous laugh reaching her lips. She rolled quickly onto her back, her small, white hands covering her cheeks. Anne smiled, her chest experiencing a full flutter of butterflies as she watched her innocent Ann squirm.

“Come now,” She teased, reaching up to take Ann's hand from her cheek. “It isn't so hard.”

She drew Ann's hand to her mouth, and kissed her knuckles slowly, watching her as she drew each rise of bone and flesh into her mouth. The smile faltered on Ann's lips as the tremble of arousal took agency over her features, and she closed her eyes, breathing faster.

“Oh...Anne…” She whispered, the high quality of her tone placing a deep ache between Anne's thighs

“Let me show you.” Anne whispered, shifting closer to her. “Your body is yours and yours alone to do with as you please. For me to do to you what you wish…”

Ann licked at her lips before biting at the lower one, but she turned back towards Anne, her skin flushed in the low lighting of the lamp.

“You always do what I wish.” She whispered, casting a quick glance upwards towards Anne.

“Mmm.” Anne murmured, her mouth curling.

She wouldn't be so deceitful with herself as to believe that she was not inordinately satisfied with herself in the matters of how and how often she brought Ann to climax during their bedroom activities, but for tonight she'd had other things in mind. After the disturbing revelations about the reverend, she felt tenderly and acutely aware of how pliable Ann was to another person's whimsies, and she wanted full confidence that Ann could decide upon things as well as she could when it came to their relationship. A marriage would be nothing without Ann's full and uninhibited consent.

“Anne…” Ann whispered, her inquisitive tone alighting upon Anne's ear with hopefulness for the night.

“Yes, dear?”

“Wh-what about…?” Her voice trailed away, and she dug her face closer to Anne's hand.

“What about what?” Anne urged, taking her chin and drawing her face upwards.

“Oh, nevermind it.” Ann laughed, nervously pushing her hair back behind her ear. “I just thought of something.”

“Tell me. Please.” Anne insisted, shifting closer to her. “I'd be silly not to want to hear your every thought.”

Ann shrugged, staring down  towards her mouth. Anne offered her a smile while her gaze was locked there, and Ann let out another laugh, pressing her forehead against her chin.

“Oh, I just was going to say… What about… about what you wish?”

“Ann…”

“No, I mean…” Ann lifted her head, her wide eyes mere inches from Anne's as she whispered. “You're always the… the… you know….”

“No….” Anne shook her head with a chuckle. “I don't know.”

“The one…” Ann stuttered, her cheeks flushing again before she whispered in a barely audible tone. “The one on top.”

Anne's brows rose, a sharp flutter of what she might've called nerves blooming in her belly. It'd been quite a spell since she'd had a partner who'd raised the issue as most of the women that she'd been with preferred to lie back and receive. It was of no consequence to Anne as she desired touching and holding and giving more than anything else that this world or the next had to offer, and she'd expected nothing of Ann but to accept those touches.

“If you fear I am missing something I'd bid you not to worry.” Anne said at last when she'd momentarily gathered herself, stroking Ann's cheek once more.

“I know…” Ann whispered, her brow furrowing. “But you always leave your underclothing on, and I…”

Anne ducked her chin, and gathered Ann closer if only to hide the fact that her own face was turning pink and warm with the topic of conversation. She'd long since grown used to the fact she was much more comfortable dressed, preferably buttoned up to her chin in her vests and waistcoats and cravats; that she was much more confident giving rather than receiving. Undressing herself completely and allowing another person to touch her inside seemed much more than what she needed to accomplish her pleasure, and she wasn't sure why Ann was so concerned with it.

“It's of no matter.” She murmured at last into Ann's hair. “I am perfectly content with giving to you as you desire.”

Ann pulled back much to Anne's dismay, but she met her gaze as straightforward as she could manage.

“You said you wanted to hear my thoughts.” Ann pointed out, and though Anne was pleased with the confidence in her tone she somewhat wished it were placed upon another pursuit.

“I do.” She assured her, petting her hair. “Always.”

“Well, then…” Ann murmured, her tone trailed away as if she expected Anne to understand the rest of what it was the meant.

“Ah….” Anne expelled a breath, unsettled to find herself at a loss for words or reassurances.

“I want to touch you, Anne.”

Her eyes flicked quickly towards Ann, her heart surging in her chest. She felt ridiculous for being caught off her guard, but little Miss Walker had surprised her yet again with her bursts of desires.

“I want to touch you… as you touch me.” Ann continued softly, her hand drifting down Anne's side, towards the edge of her nightshirt.

“It's of no consequence…” Anne repeated though her voice was but a husky whisper.

Her lids pressed closed as Ann found the hem of the shirt, and her fingers slipped beneath, grazing her naked flesh. She skimmed over the ridges of Anne's hip and ribcage, mounting each curve upwards with rising confidence until her palm was hovering beneath Anne's breast.

Anne caught her arm suddenly, drawing a sharp breath. Her heartbeat was throbbing in her ears while her stomach churned with wildly conflicting desires and emotions. She could scarcely remember the last time she'd been touched as Ann was touching her now. With the shirt bunched up over Ann's arm, she felt severely exposed.

“I… I assure you.” She choked out, her tone wavering, pathetically so. “It isn't necessary for me to achieve-”

“Why are you scared?” Ann asked, her hand slipping away. “I know I am not experienced or suave or anything of that sort, but I-”

“It's not that.” Anne replied, forcing an even tone and a quick smile as she quickly smoothed the nightshirt down. “I simply don't crave it as you do.”

Disappointment and a hint of disbelief rested in Ann's eyes, but she didn't offer any argument. Instead, she slipped away onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, and Anne could see that she was working herself into distress over the failed interaction. 

“Come, darling.” Anne murmured, reaching out to rub her stomach softly. “Let us not dwell on me. I am ever as your deepest wishes.”

Ann hesitated, her gaze locked above them, and Anne slid in closer to press a kiss against her cheek and ear. She stroked her stomach, her fingers drifting lower with the enticement of pleasure, and she felt a bit of relief when Ann sighed softly.

“Oh, you make me forget the world.” Ann whispered. “With just one touch…”

Anne smiled against her cheek, and kissed lower, her lips finding the ridge of her jaw. Ann tilted her head, stretching her neck open, and she moved in, her mouth opening against her pulse.

_ That's good… Much better…. surely…. _

She circled her fingers lower over the rise of her pubic bone, and Ann's hips dipped beneath her touch. Her knees drew upwards, and her gown slipped down her thighs, revealing her creamy flesh and the soft curls between her legs, the flower of her body. Anne's fingers danced over her inner leg, finding her flesh impossibly soft as she hovered over her tender parts and the heat emanating there.

Ann moaned, her legs straining, her hips rising towards Anne's hand to meet her touch, but Anne slid her fingers back down to her hip. Drawing her chemise upwards, she bared her stomach, and watched her soft belly tremble in the golden light.

She looked beautiful like this, and Anne would've been happy to please her in this position, but perhaps she could still fulfill a part of Ann's wish.

“Do you still want to be on top of me?” She asked in provocative tone, her breath warm against Ann's ear.

Ann turned her head, her gaze curious as their eyes met.

“Come on.” Anne motioned as she situated herself on her back and patted her legs.  

A wry smile lifted Ann's lips, and she pushed herself up quickly. She climbed over Anne's legs, and leaned over her, her blonde hair tumbling around her beaming face.

She was perhaps the most incredibly adorable woman that Anne had ever had the pleasure of bedding. Her naivety often lended to her excitement of new positions, and Anne fondly remembered the first time she'd bent her over, gathered her skirts up and touched her from behind, one hand between her legs, the other firmly grasping her fanny. It wasn't so adventurous, but roused by Ann's delight, she'd found so much more pleasure it in than she might've with someone more experienced.

_ Might you also find her touch more pleasurable as well then? _

The thought appeared quickly in her mind, bringing with it that same buzz of uncertain nerves that had swarmed in her stomach upon Ann's suggestion.

_ It matters not. _

Focusing her gaze on Ann above her, she drew her chemise up again, bunching it above her hips. Ann drew a shaky breath, but her hips swayed invitingly, and Anne sank herself into the pleasure of her warm skin and needy body, the way she writhed just for her. Yes, she was certain she could thrive of this alone forever with only a bit of help from her own hand. Ann needn't worry herself in the slightest….

Drawing her fingers up between Ann's legs, she barely touched her though Ann moaned and trembled in moments. She was volatile and eager when she was in Anne's bed, and watching her be so free was one of Anne's greater pleasures.

_ It might be so for her as well if only you'd let her. _

Anne's hand faltered, if for only a second, and she cast a quick glance up towards the other woman, grateful that her eyes remained closed, her pale brow knit with pleasure. She doubled her concentration, applying her fingers with further precision as she parted her silky folds. Ann's wetness immediately drenched her flesh, and the pang between her legs deepened. She stroked her in a gentle manner, drawing a line of pleasure from the quivering entrance of her body to the top of her puffy lips where her clitoris ached. Ann’s head dipped, and she drew halting breaths as Anne deftly circled her clit to full erection before slipping back down into her pool of arousal.

Here, Anne found her body pulsing along with her the woman above her, as though the biological responses inside their brains worked in tandem. Perhaps, it was the fresh excitement of the soon-to-be engagement or the thrill she’d had from chasing Ainsworth off, but she felt particularly excited. She hardly dwelt on the other possible reason for her arousal - Ann’s desire to touch her - and pulled her closer, deeming her sufficiently primed.

Drawing her feet up, she dug her heels into the bed and bit at her lip as she slipped inside Ann's wanting body. Inside she was as Anne pleased, aroused and pliant enough to take her fingers to the hilt, yet trembling tight with pleasure.

_ I'm going to fuck you raw, Miss Walker… _ The thought would not leave her lips, for Ann's sensibilities’ sake.

She smiled, convinced she could forget Ann's suggestion and her own body in the short length of time it took to bring Ann to the peak. Surely, it wouldn't be so difficult now that Ann was naked and impaled upon her hand.

Ann shuddered and panted, sinking back against Anne's thighs as she was filled, and Anne breathed her pleasure as she pulled her back. Grasping her buttock, she held her close and began to pump her fingers into her. Pleasure filled her at the intimate sounds of Ann's body taking her fingers, and the whimpers that rose on her lips in accordance.

“Ohhhh…” She groaned, her fingers clenching deep into the bedsheets on either side of Anne's head.

She was squirming, but the thought of releasing her was far from Anne's mind. She quite liked the feeling of her writhing against the strength of arm, the resounding twitch inside of her that let Anne know she was touching her perfectly. She held her steady, pacing the thrusts of her fingers into a steady rhythm that would push Ann towards orgasm though not too quickly to enjoy.

“Oh…” Ann squeaked above her, her elbows shaking as she attempted to hold herself upright.

_ Silly girl.  _ Anne thought, half amused, half aroused as she regarded her through heavy lids.  _ Being on top is harder than you foresaw, isn’t it? _

She wouldn’t speak that particular observation aloud as Ann was so sensitive about her physical wellbeing. Instead, she slid her hand up Ann’s back until she was cradling the back of her head, and pulled her down. Ann sank to her elbows, her face pressed into her neck and collarbone, panting and groaning for the pleasure. Free of Anne’s restrictive grip, she ardently thrust her hips into Anne’s hand until her groan became a cry, and the tremble of her body became an explosive convulsion.

Pleasure wound tightly through the core of Anne’s stomach as she listened to her sob into her ear, and felt her body seize around Anne’s fingers. Cradling the back of Ann’s head, she held her through the orgasm, her hand never failing betwixt her legs.

At last, Ann came up for air, her eyes wide, cheeks flushed inside the halo of her shiny, golden locks. Anne had prepared a soft jab of a quip about Ann’s ability to withstand her wiles, but she was hardly able to speak it before Ann was clambering off her lap, and turning herself around.

“What’s this?” Anne laughed, arousal choking her besument as Ann straddled her legs once more, though now her head was where her feet had been, and her naked ass was arched over Anne’s hips.

_ Jesus, Mary, and all of the angels in fucking heaven. _ Anne thought, a tremble stealing through her at the explicit sight of Ann spread out before her.

She’d pressed Ann to be a little more forward with her sexuality and her desires, especially when they had the pleasure of being in bed together, but it was such a sight to behold that for a moment Anne could not compose herself.

“Touch me.” Ann’s light, sweet voice was strained high with desire while a quiver of uncertainty threaded throughout the words.

She need not have worried. Anne had little intention of doing anything other than touching her, then touching her again and again and again.

Pushing herself up against the pillows, Anne placed both of her hands on Ann’s soft, plush cheeks. Her body was always so tender and lithe, the body of an heiress or a princess that had never seen labor or physical strain, exactly as Anne had imagined that first afternoon in her drawing room. Of course, she’d also imagined the thousands of pounds that came with the princess, but any thought of even a shilling was far from her mind now. It would not have mattered the material the dress on the floor was made of nor how lofty their surroundings were. Anne was suddenly certain that she’d find Ann appealing and fair in any place or time.

_ In poverty or in wealth…. _

Anne hitched a deep breath at the thought of the sacraments, at the thought of Ann being her wife until God saw fit to take them from this earth.

Lying her head back against the pillow, she let a moan slip from her lips as she slid her hand up between Ann’s legs and found her wanting once more. Her fingers found their place easily inside her, and she grasped Ann’s hip. Her eyes rolled back as she thrust her hand into her secret place, the place that only she as a woman knew, and the pleasure crashed over her body. The orgasm was close enough to feel, to almost touch and grasp, like standing upon a seashore and feeling the ocean wash up around one’s feet. She could scarcely signal her muscles to move, her hand to pleasure Ann, but then she felt Ann’s face press down against her thigh, and she was close, so close to her own alcove of desire.

“God…” She moaned the curse, and thought what power Ann had over her that she took in vain the name of the Lord.

Ann’s fingers were upon her knees then, and she could scarcely resist as she parted her moistened thighs. Her golden head ducked down, and Anne felt the heat of her breath spread across her groin, an all consuming heat that burnt the last of her will to nothing. She pressed her hips upward in an impulsive gesture as her base instincts took over her mind, and Ann’s mouth met her through the fabric of the nightshirt.

“What…?” She sobbed, grabbing at the sheet as white hot pleasure tore through her. “What are you doing… to me..?”

She could not think beyond these words, for Ann’s lips parted and she took her inside. She felt like she was slipping whole into little Miss Walker’s plush, hot mouth, her entire being lost somewhere upon her sweet, pretty tongue. She writhed beneath her, slipping down against the pillows, until she could reach above her head and grab the headboard. Her fingers cinched tight around the rungs until they pinched the insides of her palms, but the pain of it was not nearly enough to find it’s way through the pleasure clouding her head.

Ann’s fingers climbed up her thighs, and her mouth lifted for only the seconds that it took to strip away the soiled nightshirt. Anne trembled against the mattress, half naked, fully compromised, her knees falling weakly open.

Ann could see her then, her face mere inches from center of her throbbing body, and for a moment, Anne wished to push her off, pull her clothing over herself, and demand of her what right she had… But it was a fleeting wish, a grasp at the straw for the control she’d refused to relinquish to anyone since her first fateful heartbreak. It was terrifying that it was Ann - Ann who had seemed too fragile to do anything beyond fingering her beneath her skirts on the drawing room couch - yet it seemed also relieving as though she could breathe again at last. Perhaps, Anne thought vaguely, she had underestimated Miss Walker’s strength, for the burden that she had carried for these years was far from light, and yet she took it from her as simply as plucking a flower from the grass.

Tears yearned to rise in her eyes, and she could not think to stop them as Ann’s mouth covered her once more. She was ever eager, ever gentle, and Anne slipped below the surface, drowning herself in the feeling of her. Her mouth moved only to beg for more, to huskily to direct Ann’s tongue to her pleasure, then soon, her lips could only produce unintelligible cries, sharp and devastated; for Ann had destroyed this shame she’d clung, this insecurity of giving herself to someone who would surely break her heart in the end.

Her fingers clenched around the headboard, and her heels dug sharply into the bed as the length of her body twisted and arched beneath Ann’s prone form. Her thighs pressed round the glossy, golden head, but Ann’s mouth remained steady, suckling at the engorged, tortured swell of her clitoris until at last the orgasm consumed her.

The contorting and seizing of her body was beyond even the best of her self control, and she found herself saying Ann’s name, repeating it over and over like a prayer she’d once clung to as a child, hoping that God could reconcile with an unnatural person such as herself. She wasn’t so naive to be beguiled into fairytales, but as her eyes opened, tears clung to her lashes. She stared up at the ceiling, daring to hope that all that had come to pass would remain hers forever.

“Are you all right?”

Anne blinked slowly. When she moved, she felt stiff, and she found herself still clinging to the headboard, her legs bent and splayed open before her. Ann was beside her, sitting back on her legs, an expression of concern upon her pretty, girlish features.

Anne swallowed upon a dry throat, and glanced up at her, her mouth opening to form words. What exactly should she say?

“I’ve done something wrong.” Ann whispered, her brow furrowing. “You’re not saying anything.”

“No…” Anne finally managed to whisper hoarsely, uncurling her fingers slowly from the headboard in order to reach out to her. “No, you’ve…”

She grabbed Ann suddenly, and pulled her against her chest, holding her tighter and tighter to hide the tremble in her hands, her arms, her chest. Ann lay hesitantly against her chest, stroking her arm slowly, as though she needed to comfort her.

Finally, Anne pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and whispered, “I haven’t the words… I can only say I am grateful - beyond grateful - that you have denied Mr. Ainsworth.”

She felt Ann smile against her, and she closed her eyes, trying to cling to every second that passed. The engagement was set, and yet she could not let a single minute go by uncherished or taken for granted. She’d stood upon this crossroads half a dozen times before, yet never before had so little stood between her and the woman she so desperately wanted as her wife. One could almost say it was too good to be true, perhaps a strike of luck or God’s good fortune, but Anne did not believe her Fate to be so flighty. Of all these women she’d courted, only Ann had truly taken her heart, her mind, and her body, and she’d be damned if the world asked for them back.

“There won’t be another.” She murmured after awhile, still holding Ann as close to her heart as she could.

“Hmm?” Ann murmured, drowsily, having fallen towards slumber in the wake of her exertion.

“If I lose you.” Anne whispered, turning her gaze towards the window. “There won’t be another.”

If Ann replied, she barely heard it. Her eyes were on the stars, the sky, and beyond, straight to heaven’s gates. She would’ve stared down God himself just to say:  _ Not again. This time… she’s mine... _

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiii, first fic for this fandom so please let me know what you think. I absolutely adore the Ann(e)s and episode five emotionally destroyed me so this is essentially me licking my wounds and pretending everything is okay lol
> 
> If you want, hit me up on tumblr under the user name dykeofhalifax


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